


MIA DNA

by 74days



Series: Meet-Cute AU's [49]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, CSI Bucky, Detectives, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, nypd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5351966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/74days/pseuds/74days
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes has to find out what member of the NYPD Detective pool took part in the last 'fluid run' for test samples to ensure that all the machines in the CSI labs worked. <br/>Enter Sam Wilson and his partner - Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	MIA DNA

**Author's Note:**

  * For [m0th3rw4r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/m0th3rw4r/gifts).



Bucky sat at his station and looked down the microscope with a frown, before switching slides and frowning some more.

“You look like you’re about to fart.” Barton told him, looking over the screen that separated his work station from Bucky’s. “I find it weird that people still think you’re hot when you pull the weirdest fucking faces, dude.”

“Hmm.” Bucky nodded, switching the slides again, and rolling over to the Sequencer. “Have you seen the dummy runs for the day?”

“Nope.” Barton said, looking through his notes. “I fed in the samples and let it go while I was having my coffee.” He looked up and frowned. “Why? Is it on the fritz again?”

Bucky shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve got a slide of the first sample. Take a look.”

Barton, aware that Bucky would actually punch him if he rolled over on his chair because Bucky was the worst for being a stickler about Health and Safety, walked around the bench and took a cursory glance down at the set-up on Bucky’s desk.

“Yeah?”

“Look at slide two.” He said, checking the machine again and seeing just how much longer it would take to run the morning samples. He heard Clint Barton, his lab partner of 5 years, switch out the slides with a speed that most would be surprised at. He mostly looked half asleep, with his constant bed-head and wrinkled scrubs. Bucky knew for a fact that when he pulled them on in the morning, they’d been neatly pressed – because it had been Bucky’s turn to pick them up from the drycleaners.

“Huh.” He said, from behind Bucky. Another ‘snick snick’ of slides being swapped. “Huh. How much longer is the cycle going to run?”

“About an hour.” Bucky said, glaring at the machine.

“Jesus Christ. You know up in Baltimore they’ve got the new machine that takes an hour and a half.” He bitched. “How unfair is that? I got an email from Luke the other day telling me all about it.”

“Well, you can take it up with Stark if you want to.” Bucky said, “I’m sure if you whine enough he’ll buy it with his own money.”

“I was holding out for a pay rise.” Barton sighed, before looking down the microscope again. “Jesus. Is this the Rumlow case sample?”

“No.” Bucky said, walking over. “I wouldn’t give a shit if it was one of Rumlows guys. It’s from the sample pool, one of the controls.”

Barton leaned back and sighed. “Jesus, dude.”

“I know.”

“He’s one of our guys, huh?”

“Yup.” Bucky said, running a hand over his neat side part. It was going to be a long ass day, and it hadn’t even really started yet.

“Shit. You’d better wait till you see the DNA results, before you go to Stark.” Barton advised. “Just in case.”

* * *

 

“And you think that it’s… what? The machine? The fridges?”

“No, Tony,” Bucky said, running a hand over his face. “I think it’s the sample.”

“Right. But a new machine would have made it better, right?”

“No, Tony.”

“You know in Baltimore they’ve got one of the new ones?” Tony said, wheeling his chair around his massive workstation – covered in machines and computers. The man was the head of their department for a reason – and despite the local rumours, it  ** _wasn’t_**  because he’d bought his way in. Tony Stark was a certified genius – unfortunately, so was Victor Frankenstein. “I don’t know why we’re working on outdated POS machines when Baltimore’s got-”

“Tony – what am I going to do about these tests?”

“Run em again.” Tony said, “Then send up the report to me. If it’s the same results, we’ll have to put in a request to talk to the donor.”

“The results aren’t going to say anything new.” Bucky argued. “Both Barton and I manually checked and all the other results came through normal.”

Tony shrugged. “Gotta do it by the book, Buckster.” He said, sliding over to the papers Bucky had put on his desk. “If you’re going to tell this poor SOB his swimmers aint swimming, you gotta be sure those fuckers are  ** _dead_**.” He glanced down. “I’ll requisition a new sample from him though. I think I can get that quicker, if I petition the whole department.”

“The sample I’ve got is fine.”

“Yeah, but maybe he was having a bad day.” Tony said. “And you know how much Barton loves a fluid run.”

“Barton’s got the Peirce caseload labs.” Bucky reminded him. It was important that nothing took him away from the Senators corruption case – a simple mistake and his lawyers would be all over it. They weren’t going to be the reason that asshole walked.

Tony grinned at him. “Better get your little white booties over there then, huh?”

* * *

 

Steve and Sam heard the collective groan as they walked in with the coffee order – hands full of white cups and brown paper bags. “Something up?” Sam said to the small crowd, handing out the coffee cups.

“Gremlins are coming up for another blood and balls run.” Wade said, leaning back and grinning. “I’m pretty sure they drink it. We only just jizzed in their little bottles a week ago.”

“Lovely.” Steve said, grimacing. “I hate needles.”

“I don’t mind.” Wade grinned, and when Steve shot him a questioning look, he added “I get to whack one off at work an-.”

“Please do not finish that sentence.” Sam cut in. “Please, for the love of tiny little grandmothers, do not finish that sentence.”

“When they showing up?” Steve asked, looking at the clock. It had just turned 8am – he didn’t think the lab gremlins worked through the day – they always seemed to be scuttling around sending emails at the asscrack of dawn, or right before Steve logged off for the night.

“Lunch-ish.” Kate said, rolling over and taking her coffee from Sam with a smile. Steve liked the rookie – she had a lot of good ideas that got her promoted to detective fairly quick out of the academy – but sometimes Steve had to admit, her lack of street smarts was an issue. Smarts like not flirting with your colleagues was a big one. Sam didn’t seem to mind, but then Sam was married to Carol who was currently out on deployment and as far as Steve was aware, the man had never even looked at another woman. It was especially noticeable because of the sheer amount of women who threw themselves at him on the daily. Not that Steve was bitter – everyone knew that he’d never need to compete with Sam over  ** _women_**.

“What a shame we’ll be out checking on a lead then, huh?” Steve said, taking a swig of his own drink. He didn’t mind donating blood – but he hated the knowing looks that everyone got when it came to… well… walking out of the men’s room holding a little bottle of white liquid.

* * *

 

The thing about samples, Bucky lamented, was that they were all anonymous. Of course, it was possible to find out who donated what, but it meant getting another set of samples and… “What do you mean, this is all there is?”

“I mean,” Captain Phillips said, glaring at him “That this is all we have. Some of us actually have work to do.”

Bucky bit back the “ _And yet you are here_ ,” comment that threatened to pass his lips by forcibly biting down on the inside of his cheek. “Right.” Bucky said, looking at the handful of guys lounging at their desk. He really wished he’d traded this job with Barton. “I’ll have to come back for the rest.”

“You do that.” Phillips said, before disappearing back into his office and slamming the door. Bucky was infinitely grateful that the Captain wasn’t one of the original donors.

“Hello, nurse.” Wade said from where he was lounging at his desk, legs spread open obscenely. A few sniggers flitted around the room and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Are you the porn supposed to help me along?”

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded, pulling out a comically long needle from his kit. It wasn’t for anything he needed today, but he kept it in his pack for reasons. This  ** _specific_**  reason. “You wanna take the bottle into the bathroom, or do you want me to extract it manually?” He held up the needle and grinned.

Three guys got on their feet instantly, grabbing the bottles on the desk and vanishing into the less than hygienic bathroom, while Wade grinned hugely. “Man, I like you. I like you a lot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Gets me all tingly in my dingly.”

Bucky snorted a laugh, and it seemed that was all Wade was waiting for – he grinned widely and grabbed the bottle. “What’s this for anyway? We normally only gotta do this once a year, and this is the second time in a week.”

Bucky stalled. He wasn’t sure what reason to give, and after a pause that went on too long, he simply shrugged. “No idea. Take it up with my boss.”

Wade nodded, and Bucky was pretty sure the guy didn’t make detective by his sense of humour, going on the glint in his eye. “Sure thing, nurse.”

* * *

 

“What?” Wade was saying, standing in the middle of the room with his arms spread wide. “I like a man who can lie to my face and threaten me with  ** _large_**  torturous implements.” He let his tongue roll over the r in large like a purr.

Steve didn’t want to know, and said as much.

“Aw, you missed the hottest lab gremlin in the world.” Wade said, grabbing his pecs like they were boobs, with two hands, and swooning. “He was all dark hair and white lab coat. He threatened me with bodily harm. I’ve never sploodged so hard in my **_life_**.”

Steve joined in the chorus of disgusted groans as Wade looked faux-hurt. “What? What?” He said, looking around. “Was it something I said?”

“Rogers! Wilson! Not you, Wade, Jesus.” Phillips snapped, from inside his office, and Steve left Wade to regale the rest of the room with his latest infatuation. The man felt in and out of lust by the hour – although everyone knew he was very happily dating a photographer for the Bugle. No one had ever met them, and it was impossible to get more information out of Wade – Steve wasn’t sure if he was gay, straight, bi or poly – Wade wore rainbows and loved hello kitty and large explosions and drooled over Darcy when she sauntered in, a lot of wiggle in her walk. Steve understood that, though – he might have been gay but he wasn’t blind.

“You’ve got to go down to the lab and give your samples.” Phillips sighed, looking up from his emails with a glare. “Stark is riding my ass hard on this, and as much as I hate the smarmy little shit, I don’t wanna piss him off.”

“What’s this about?” Sam asked, looking at their boss. “Was someone on drugs? Was it Wade?” He said, looking out into the main room, where Wade was making an obscene gesture that involved his badge, a gun and a Barbie doll. Where the fuck had he found a Barbie doll? “Cause that’s not gonna shock me.”

“I don’t know.” Phillips said, glaring. “And I don’t want to know. It’s not drugs, that’d come from Romanov. It’s something else.” He said, referencing Natasha and her Internal Affairs team. Steve wasn’t sure if a single cop liked her – she was sharp and mean and took no prisoners when investigating. “So go and make sure whatever it is, is done with minimal bitching on Starks part.” He looked at a file on his desk. “Worse than his daddy.” He muttered.

* * *

 

The lab was bright and clean and nothing at all like the precinct, and Steve didn’t like it at all. It reminded him of all the time he’d spent in hospital as a kid, nearly dying while his mother stood on the other side of the glass and tried to look strong.

He’d obviously been down before, after all, hanging around waiting on evidence being processed was a massive part of his job – but he certainly wasn’t a fan.

“You look tense.” Sam said as they walked through the white walled maze. “I’d offer you a beer after work, but your mother would shank me if I make you late for your Thursday night dinner.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “My mother is a saint.”

“Your mother is a tiny ninja and she scares me.” Sam said, without a hint of a lie in his voice. “The woman knows a hundred ways to kill a man, Steve.”

“She’s a  ** _nurse_**.”

“She’s a scary, scary woman.” Sam said, grinning. “Even Phillips is scared of her.” He pointed out, not quite incorrectly. Steve wasn’t exactly sure what had happened the day that Steve been taken hostage at the bank, but the office gossip had his mother in Phillips office for 45 minutes where the door was shut and the blinds open – and she’d sat in the chair opposite the Captain. No one heard any raised voices, and even Wade (who had tried to film the whole thing on his phone) couldn’t make out a word.

Since then, the captain had sent Steve’s mother flowers for her birthday, and (Steve assumed) was the sender of the floral arrangement that sat on the dining room table at Christmas. “My mother is a sainted woman and I won’t hear a word against her.” Steve said, grinning. “And she’s expecting you too, you know that, right?”

“I wasn’t going to assume, but damn.” Sam said, grinning, rubbing his stomach with enthusiasm. “The things that woman can do with mashed potatoes, Steve.”

“That’s racist.”

“How?!” Sam spluttered. “You’re telling the  ** _black man_**  he’s being racist?”

“She’s Irish.”

“It’s stereotypical at the  ** _most_**.” Sam countered, and then they turned a corner and they were there – the lab where they’d have to give blood and jerk off in the sterile, cold rooms.

It was Sam who pushed the door open, because Steve had stalled at the glass doors, and the wave of conversation washed over him like the shock after an explosion.

“Little guy, maybe?” Someone asked, obviously in the middle of a sentence.

“I’m telling you, no one looked like that.”

“Are you sure?” The first guy asked.

“Yes!” The frustration was clear in his tone.

“Well, it looks like slide 4b might be a candidate. We’ll have to wait till the sequencer runs the samples you pulled this morning.” A snort. “Geddit? Pulled.”

“You’re a child, you know that, right?”

“I’m a married man,  ** _with_**  a child.”

“A dog, Clint, you have a dog.” The voice sounded amused and exasperated. They were obviously good friends, Steve noted.

“A furbaby.”

“Why did Natasha marry you?”

“Because I lavish her with… shit, I dunno.” The first voice, Clint, sounded a little confused. “Why **_did_ ** she marry me?”

The laugh was warm and open and masculine, and Steve was suddenly inside the room before he knew he was moving. “Hey, Gremlins.” Sam said, a few steps ahead of Steve. “We’ve bee-”

“They’re too big.” The first guy said, blond hair messy and making him look more like he’d walked in in his pyjamas rather than a professional wearing scrubs. But really, Steve’s full attention was on the second guy. Wade had been right. He was  ** _gorgeous_**.

“Yup.” He nodded, looking at Sam and Steve, and (Steve noticed) eyes not lingering on either of them. Damn. Steve knew they were both good looking guys.

“We just came down here for no damn reason?” Sam asked, looking irritated.

“Well, no.” Clint said, looking confused. “But we’re looking for a specific type of guy.”

“Kinky.” Sam said, tone stating that he still wasn’t happy. “We’re not your type.”

Clint grinned. “Well, I mean, you are both  ** _spectacularly_**  attractive, but I gotta work with this ugly fucker all day so maybe I can’t tell anymore.”

The ‘ugly fucker’ had a jaw Steve wanted to feel under his lips, square and solid – clean shaven. Steve wondered if the spot just under the hinge of his jaw would make him squirm, if it was sensitive when kissed.

“Uh-huh.” Sam said, “Come on, Steve.”

“Wait!” Steve insisted, fighting against the pull of Sam on his arm. “Maybe we can help, if you’re looking for someone in particular.” He paused. “We’re detectives, right? We’re on the same team.”

The look Sam gave him was one of surprise. Normally Steve wouldn’t disagree with Sam, after all, they had just been sent on a fool’s errand. However, the lab gremlin was one of the most attractive men Steve had ever seen, so he wasn’t going to class it as a waste at all. No sir. Steve was more than happy they’d taken the time to show up. “Steve Rogers.” He said holding out his hand in greeting to the dark headed Gremlin.

“James Barnes.” The man said, and his hand was large and warm and his smile was warmer.

“Right, okay, Bucky – Buck – come on.” Clint was saying as Steve didn’t quite let go quickly enough, James – maybe Bucky? – smirked a little, that full mouth making Steve’s throat click when he swallowed, dry and hot.

“Okaaay,” Sam said, turning back to look at the lab technicians, after rolling his eyes at Steve. “What are you looking for?”

“We can’t tell you.” Clint said, shrugging. “I mean, it’s like, confidential?”

“We’re looking for a small guy, he’s in your bullpit, can’t be hard to miss – he’d be short, underweight maybe?” Bucky said, still looking at Steve, dark blue eyes assessing and making Steve hot under his collar. Internally Steve started to pray, sending up a definitely sinful begging note that Bucky might be gay, bi - hell, hetroflexible even – Steve would take it and be glad.

“There’s no one like that on our team.” Sam said, when it was obvious that the head Steve was thinking with didn’t include a brain.

“He wouldn’t have to be small.” Clint was saying, but Steve was no longer paying anything much attention, because the slow, deliberate look up his body that Bucky was subjecting him to was currently sapping his brainpower. Steve knew when someone was checking him out, and Bucky was **_definitely_ ** checking him out. “But I mean, he might look sick?”

“Sick?” Sam asked, looking worried. “Sick how?”

“Pale? Anaemic?”

“Nope.” Sam said, before throwing a look at Steve that clearly said he needed to get his shit together. “No one like that. Can you tell us what the problem is without breaking… whatever code you got?”

“Um, it’s kinda… um… Buck, help me out here, I’m not good with explaining.”

Bucky blinked, breaking the eye contact that Steve hadn’t been aware they’d been holding. How long had they been staring at one another? “Huh?”

“Can you explain why we’re looking for this guy?”

Bucky looked conflicted, and Steve half reached out. “We’re good guys, it’s not like we’ll say anything, we just wanna help.”

“His sperm count is really low.” Bucky said, grimacing. “Like, too low to even pull up DNA low.”

“Oh,” Steve said, “It might be me?”

* * *

 

“It might be me?” Steve said, and Bucky blinked, looking him over quickly. The last time had been more of a ‘hello sailor’ type look, and the way Steve had subtly preened under his gaze was enough to set Bucky thinking about all kinds of non-work related activities that Steve might want to partake in. Christ, he was  ** _nice_**  to look at – that shoulder to hip ratio made Bucky’s mouth water. But the guy they were looking for had to be sick, and Steve certainly didn’t look sick.

“How.” Bucky said – aware it didn’t sound like a question. It wasn’t.

“I had cancer as a kid – the chemo pretty much wiped out my chance of being someone’s baby daddy.”

“Huh.” Sam said, frowning. “I always thought it was the fact you were gay.”

Bucky nearly sagged with relief – and he didn’t miss how Sam Wilson gave him a rather pointed look. Bucky would buy that man a beer sometime soon.

“That helped.” Steve shrugged. “But yeah… is it me?”

The machine behind Bucky and Clint started beeping, and Bucky turned to the computer screen. Sure enough – sample 4b was showing an almost complete lack of DNA to sequence.

“Okay.” Clint said, walking back to the microscope. “It’s not you, Steve.” Bucky nodded in agreement.

“You’ll have to stop donating though,” Bucky pointed out. “We need to test samples that have viable DNA – it was just luck that we picked this one first.”

“Luck?” Sam said, because Steve was still looking at Bucky like Bucky was the best thing he’d ever seen and Bucky wasn’t going to be able to form sentences soon under that heated look.

“Oh yeah.” Barton was saying, as Bucky tore his eyes away from where they’d been locked with Steve’s for too long, and not long enough. Shit. “We need to talk to 4b. And get him to a hospital.”

* * *

 

“See, I knew you wanted my junk.” Wade was saying, as they pushed him into the waiting car. “I knew it.” He grinned, “I even washed my balls in the sink when you left.”

“That’s fucking disgusting, Wade,” Sam grimaced, shoving the other man. Not too hard. Because the car was taking him to the hospital. “I wash my fucking hands in there.”

“I used the ladies!” Wade said, “I wouldn’t wash my balls in the guy’s room if you paid me, you guys are dirty assholes.”

The scream of horror from Kate Bishop was enough to get Wade to slam the door of the car quickly, before buckling himself into place. Bucky grinned, and looked over his shoulder, where Clint was doubled over with laughter at his cousins horrified face.

“What happens now?” Steve said, standing beside Bucky and looking… well… worried and hopeful. Bucky knew the feeling.

“Well, I was going to grab something to eat.” Bucky said, hoping that the lie wouldn’t get picked up by Barton, still laughing as Kate slapped him on the arm and back repeatedly. Clint knew that Bucky went home after each shift, fed the cat he swore was a stray and not his – Bucky didn’t keep a pet – and then sit in front of the TV while he read some pulp fiction novel.

Luckily, Steve didn’t know that, and his smile made Bucky feel hot and wanted – like Steve couldn’t believe his luck. “Well, um, me too, actually.” Steve said, looking at Bucky like he wanted to grab a hold of him and never let go.

The last few hours had been like that – as they worked out who 4b was, getting to the station and convincing Wade to get a check-up at the hospital. And they’d managed just fine. Well – Sam and Clint had managed just fine, while Bucky and Steve made eyes at each other the whole time. He was well aware that Clint was only holding back ripping him to shreds because Bucky had been there when Clint had met Natasha for the first time – and it had been Bucky who’d loaned him a shirt when he’d drooled coffee down his front and it had been Bucky who pushed a few notes into his pocket because Clint had asked her out without remembering he’d lost his wallet the day before. He never did see that cash again – although he’d been best man at their wedding so he figured it went to a good cause.

He was pretty sure Steve was going to get the ribbing of a lifetime from Sam though, because Sam kept looking over at Steve and snorting a laugh.

“There’s a nice place over by mine?” Bucky suggested, because he wasn’t going to hide that he seriously wanted the night to end with Steve in his apartment. Preferably naked. Going on the smile Steve gave him, the detective was totally on the same page.

“Sounds per-”

“Your mamma is waiting on you, Steve.” Someone pointed out – Sam, Bucky realised – and the expression on Steve’s face made it quite clear that his mom was clearly a higher priority than his dick. Bucky could respect that.

“Maybe tomorrow?” Steve asked, looking sheepish, like maybe Bucky won’t want to wait 24 hours for him. Bucky grinned, nodded, he’d only known Steve Rogers for a few hours and he already knew he’d wait a helluva lot longer than a day.

* * *

 

“And then he stood there,” Sam carried on, “Looking like someone just gut punched him – I swear, Sarah, I’m pretty sure I heard some big band start a waltz in the background.”

Steve heard his mom laughing, melodic and soothing, like her accent. She’d lived in Brooklyn since she was 3 years old but she still sounded like she was fresh off the boat.

“That’s not true.” Steve argued, although he had a sneaking suspicion it might be. He certainly felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs when he’d seen Bucky for the first time.

“See?” Sam was saying, sounding smug – and when Steve finally managed to focus on what was going on at his mother’s kitchen table, both she and Sam were looking at him. Sam looked like he wanted to laugh, but his mom had the softest expression on her face, like when Steve told her he’d made the football team, or that he’d passed his exams – or that he’d made rank to detective. Happy, proud, a little bit sad about what it might mean for the future.

“It’s not true.” He argued, half-heartedly – but his phone chimed with a message from Bucky about their date the next day and Steve completely forgot what he was saying.

* * *

 

“And although I wasn’t asked to make a speech,” Wade was saying, his hair starting to grow back, a little irregularly but still – growing despite his close call. “I wrote one anyway.” He pulled out a little stack of white cards and cleared his voice, despite the laughing calls for him to sit down and shut up. “When I first met Steve Rogers, he totally wanted to bone me.” Wade started, and laughter burst out of the guests at tables 2, 5, 7 and 8. Steve, sitting at the long table at the top, buried his head in his hands with a groan. He felt Bucky rub soothing circles into his shoulder while laughing silently.

“And when I first met Bucky, well, let’s just say that  ** _all_**  he could think about were my balls. My precious, precious balls.” Steve snorted, head still down on the table. Now most people were laughing, covering the ears of the kids at tables 1 and 3. “When it became apparent that my fine ass was property of another – Hey Pete! – They found solace in one another. It’s okay, lads, you just need to ask and I’ll be the filling in your sandwich any day.”

“Wade…” A disapproving tone in a soft Irish accent said, just audible over the laughter.

“Which is of course, a huge joke cause the only boners they touch are their own!” Wade hurriedly added, looking down the table at where Steve’s mom (Sitting beside Captain Phillips – and wasn’t  ** _that_**  a headfuck?) had raised an eyebrow. “And since both of them saved my nuts one time, I gotta be the first one to raise a glass.” He lifted his customised champagne flute – he’d found one online that had a glittery Hello Kitty on it – and grinned. “To the really hot, super married, Steve and James Barnes-Rogers – although you know, I got $50 that it’s actually Steve that rogers Barnes so if you could just clea-”

Wade was tackled by the Best Men before he could finish that sentence, a moment caught by the photographer, all three of them laughing, while Steve and Bucky sat to the side, heads in their hands.

Wade kept it as his screensaver, and laughed every time it popped up.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this wasn't on my lists of meet-cutes. It was a direct result of M0th3rw4r and her HILARIOUS CSI-Mountie work tales. Apparently, in order to make sure the machines work, they run samples first. And they don't use the 'case' samples cause of wasting them and issues with small amounts of blood/fluids/trace.   
> So they have employees that donate.   
> This story is dedicated to those hard working people of the RCMP CSI.   
> And to you, M0th3rw4r!
> 
> (alternative titles are:  
> You're Swimmers Aint Salmon  
> You'll Never Be On Maury  
> Drowned Tadpoles And You  
> The Swimmers Of The NYPD)
> 
> Also - one more till I hit 50 Meet-Cutes!


End file.
